


My True Love Gave To Me

by DrabblingSparks (ingenious_spark)



Series: Saint Seiya prompts & short fic [162]
Category: Saint Seiya
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Christmas, Drabble, Fluff, Long Live Feedback Comment Project, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Prompt Fic, holiday fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2020-01-14 14:50:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18478477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ingenious_spark/pseuds/DrabblingSparks
Summary: Milo doesn't have a gift for Camus this Christmas. Camus tries not to be disappointed. Later, when they're all together with family, Milo surprises Camus- he has a gift after all.





	My True Love Gave To Me

**Author's Note:**

> From a batch of prompts I did over on my tumblr, [@oopsbirdficced](http://oopsbirdficced.tumblr.com). This was previously posted in a drabble collection 'Saint Seiya: Snapshots’, that I have chosen to take down and post individually for ease of access. 
> 
> Original author's note: A modern, no-powers AU with pre-established CaMilo, and younger Isaac and Hyôga, who Camus actually adopted! Also forgive me, I tried to do my research, but I might have mucked up Russian Christmas traditions that aren’t super religious. Also, Christmas in Russia is apparently January 7th.  
> (Originally posted 12-9-2017)

Camus yawns heavily, listing slightly as he waits for the coffee to brew. It’s Christmas morning, and he can barely believe he’s the first person up and awake. Then again, the boys were up far too late giggling to each other. He checks the clock- early yet. He’s already filled Isaac and Hyôga’s stockings full of little gifts from Дед Мороз, mostly candies, but a couple of more boring, useful things.

If anyone had asked him when he was twenty, where he’d see himself in eight years, on the seventh of January, he would not have been able to say. But here he is, the adopted father of a ten year old half-Japanese boy and an eleven year-old half-Finnish boy, with two more languages under his belt and a steady relationship with the prettiest man he’s ever met. They’re going to head back to town after gifts have been exchanged and breakfast eaten, to spend the rest of the day with Camus’s grandmother, Aleksandra, Sasha to family. She had raised both him and his cousin, Mikhail, and he will also be there, with his own family. They’ll exchange the rest of their gifts there.

Camus feeds the eight dogs of his sled team, and tries to figure out what to make for breakfast that he won’t screw up spectacularly. He scritches ears and drinks his coffee, as he dismally thinks about things suitable for Christmas breakfast and things he can actually make, and how these two circles do not overlap.

He’s saved when Milo surfaces, getting his own cup of coffee and taking over the breakfast effort. Once the smell of food starts to fill the air there’s twin thumps and squeals of excitement, and Camus has to go waylay the kids into brushing their teeth and hair and washing their faces before they can come discover what Дед Мороз has given them.

The morning goes surprisingly quickly. The gift opening has to wait until after breakfast, but the contents of their stockings is enough to content Hyôga and Isaac until the appointed time. Camus also gets them to help him brush the dogs, eight big, fluffy samoyeds. Two of the team is relatively new, introduced to the little pack when Camus realized that his sled team of six was a bit small for the size of his family.

Finally (according to the children), breakfast is done, and the gifts are parceled out. The children tear through the wrapping paper in shrieks of glee. Camus distributes new rawhides to each of his dogs, and their noises of joy rival the kids’.

He gives a small package to Milo, hoping he’ll like it. He does, cooing over the neat leatherwork of a new belt and a matching little leather backpack, handmade by Camus. Camus is a little disheartened when Milo doesn’t produce a return gift. His boyfriend actually looks very sheepish.

“So, I didn’t actually get you anything.” He murmurs, and Camus struggles against the breathless hurt and disappointment warring in his chest, trying to smile it off.

“That’s all right, Milo. I don’t need anything.” He assures his boyfriend, and accepts a kiss.

They pack up and head out, and spend a wonderful day with Baba Sasha, Cousin Misha, and their collective families. He only remembers when it’s gift-giving time again. Milo looks strangely nervous, when everyone has finished opening all their presents.

“Hey, Camus? Remember how I said I didn’t get you anything?” he asks softly, and Camus nods, puzzled. “I lied. Here.” He presses a little box into Camus’s hand, and he looks down, heart skipping a beat. It’s small, square, and hinged. Like a jewelry box. He opens it, heart in his throat. A simple gold ring winks up at him, and he looks back up at Milo with wide eyes.

“Merry Christmas, Camus. Will you marry me?” He asks, and the room falls silent at that exact moment, unplanned. Someone squeals softly, and he sees Baba Sasha wiping tears from her soft, wrinkled cheeks, beaming with happiness.

“Yes,” he whispers softly, a touch choked up. The room erupts into cheering as Milo takes the ring and slips it onto his finger. Camus kisses him, and he’s crying a little too.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the LLF Comment Project, which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
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